


Don't be nice

by HaneGaNai (nezstorm)



Series: Glance [6]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Harassment, Unrequited Love, by a third party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/HaneGaNai
Summary: When he thought about it later on their first meeting was just like in one of those romance novels. So cliché.





	Don't be nice

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting old works.

When he thought about it later on their first meeting was just like in one of those romance novels. So cliché.

He was on his way to work; squeezed tightly between the door and the crowd behind him desperately trying not to think.

It was always like this. Each and every time. That was why he avoided public means of transport at all cost. He even passed his driver's license for that reason alone. But his car broke down and he had no other choice. Three days and he would get his car back and he wouldn't have to endure this anymore.

_ Only three more days,  _ he reminded himself trying to ignore the hands on his ass that pushed him further against the wall of the wagon. Izuru bit harder on his lower lip telling himself that it would be over soon. That only a few minutes were left till they'd reach the next stop and as soon as the door would open he could get off and away from his harasser.

He closed his eyes and desperately tried not to think, not to feel the puffs of rushed breathing against the skin of his neck, the fingers parting his butt cheeks, the guy pressing into him with his whole body.

_ It'll be over soon. It'll end soon. Endure _ , he repeated in his head like a mantra.

_ Only a few more mi _ -

A smack of something hard slapping against skin broke through his thoughts and suddenly there was free space behind him.

"Get the fuck away you friggin' pervert!" Someone called behind him. He didn't dare turn.

"Are you all right?" The same man asked him and the blond could see his apparent savior's eyes roaming over his body checking if everything was okay.

Kira didn't answer. The door opened and before that voice could call to him again he ran out of the underground and through the park wanting to get home as soon as possible.

He would never use the underground again. Ever. He'd give up on sleep and get up three hours earlier to get to his workplace by foot if that was necessary. He didn't need to sleep all that much anyways. Or he could call for a taxi and put up with morning traffic.

He'd do anything to never have to live through such embarrassment.

–

Later that day when Izuru was locking the door to his apartment on his way to the grocery store he met him again. And the cliché continued.

"Hey." He heard a man call behind him while he was in the process of slipping his keys into his pocket.

Thinking that the guy meant someone else he continued walking down the hall towards the glass door separating him from the clear blue and the soft breeze of autumn. He wasn't familiar with any of his neighbors so there was little possibility of someone calling for him.

"Hey you." The man called from a much closer distance this time and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes?" The blond turned with a sigh wondering whether he'd be able to find some peace and quiet today.

Standing before him was a young man who appeared a few years younger than him yet was slightly taller. His hair had a peculiar orange color that quite oddly suited the handsome face.

"You're the guy from the metro, right?" The orange head said pointedly. "From the afternoon."

"Um..." Was the only thing Kira managed feeling his cheeks heat up as he finally recognized the guy's voice. It was the voice of the man who saved him... and who saw him in such a compromising situation.

The blond squirmed in discomfort and willed for the world to collapse right here and now so he wouldn't have to live through it.

His rescuer watched him with his brown orbs and his features softened.

"It is you. Are you okay? You ran away so fast." The young man looked genuinely worried.

"... I'm okay." Izuru smiled nervously. "Thank you... for your help,... um?"

"Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo." The orange head prompted and reached out his hand. "We live on the same floor."

Kira grabbed the hand in a gentle handshake and felt himself calming down slowly under Ichigo's gaze.

"Kira Izuru."

–

It started from there. With that simple touch and the brown-eyed gaze. With the softened expression as the orange head asked for his well-being.

Surprisingly enough Izuru found himself accepting Ichigo's offer on going to work together every day. Same with getting back.

"We're going in the same direction anyway." Kurosaki said and there was no helping it. The young man was stubborn and wouldn't let Izuru repeat that he didn't want to bother him.

"Don't be stupid, Izuru, it's not a problem." The orange head said tenths of times before Kira finally calmed down.

It was odd how fast they became friends – though Izuru wouldn't use that strong of a word – considering how reserved the blond was with strangers or people he just met (no matter if they saved his rear or not). Not that the blond minded, not at all. Ichigo's company was refreshing. He was so boisterous, so expressive, he lived through each day with strength and stubbornness and such resolve that Izuru couldn't help but envy him. Look up to him. And fall in love. Deeply.

It didn't come as a surprise, it wasn't a sudden realization.

As soon as Izuru opened his eyes in the morning all he could think about was meeting Ichigo at the exit of their building. About spending the thirty minutes it took for them to reach Kurosaki's station together; talking, listening to Ichigo complain about his twin brother, getting poked in the side when he spaced out or the orange head simply thought he looked too gloomy. When he got to the office he was all business, but even when he was buried under mountains of paperwork and had barely any time to eat proper lunch he always found a minute or two to spend looking forwards to getting back home with Ichigo.

Then it was the underground again with meeting the younger man and watching the scowl on his face ease little by little as he ranted about his perverted boss or the crazy janitor or other 'interesting' people that got on his nerves that day. Kira loved his voice. He could listen to him for hours on end and still wouldn't get enough of it. Ichigo might be wearing a permanent scowl, but when he got agitated and tried his best to keep his expression unchanged the emotions in his voice would always give him away.

That and his eyes.

More often than he'd like to admit the blond found himself searching for Ichigo's gaze, searching for those mesmerizing brown orbs that were so deep he felt as if he might drown in them. And he wouldn't mind one bit. He wanted to learn what hid in those brown depths. He wanted to get to see the man's face without that scowl, see all the expressions Ichigo could make. Of course whenever Kurosaki would catch him staring Izuru would look away or pretend that he was looking at something behind him and hope his burning cheeks wouldn't give him away.

Izuru thought that it was those eyes that drew him so much to Ichigo. And it was Ichigo's kindness that broke his heart.

The way he cared so much for him, someone he met just weeks ago. How he treated him as a friend when they knew so little about each other. He rushed to his rescue even before he knew his name! And now glared at every suspicious man that stood to close to Izuru in the crowded wagon.

Before he met the orange head rush hours were pretty much a horror for him, now thought he enjoyed them. He enjoyed the feeling of Ichigo standing so close to him, feeling his breath on his nape or ear when he leaned in to tell him something. Or how they stood right next to the door of the wagon facing each other with Ichigo's hand next to his head as he guarded him. Even though his cheeks always heated up and he was sure he resembled a blond tomato, Izuru would never give up on those moments. Not when it was everything he could ever count on – those moments of unplanned closeness and body contact.

The warmth he felt radiating from Ichigo's body, even though welcome, made his heart ache. It was such an ambivalent feeling. Everything was ambivalent.

Izuru knew that there was no point in hoping, that he should give up on wishing for his own good. That dreaming would only make him suffer. Yet he couldn't stop yearning and wanting and looking forwards to the next time they'd meet.

Even if it hurt, even if it made his soul scream in agony.

Sometimes he thought of getting back to the life before Ichigo, to his colorless but peaceful days. It was boring in a way, maybe a bit stressful, empty even, but there was calm and peace of mind in that loneliness of his. But the second that thought appeared he knew that it was too late for him, that he was too addicted to the dull ache in his chest to be able to live without it.

Sometimes he wished for Ichigo to get bored of him, after all he doubted he was an interesting companion. He knew that the orange head had many friends – with such a magnetic personality, such charisma he was bound to be surrounded by a group of loyal friends.

Sometimes he wanted the orange head to notice the feelings he harbored for him and reject him. Tell him that they should just stay friends. Or that he already had someone. That there was no place for Izuru in his life.

Sometimes he believed that it would be better for him to just watch the young man from afar. To distance himself from him. Push him away somehow. But deep down he knew that Ichigo wouldn't let him go without a fight, because that was the way he was. One of the things he loved about him.

Sometimes he felt that it would be better for him if Ichigo stopped being so nice to him. After all it was that kindness that made the blond fall for him in the first place. That big gold heart of his. That overprotectiveness. The faith he had in other people.

It was that kindness and those strong eyes of his. It was the source of Kira's heart being filled with overwhelming feelings that contradicted and fought so much that he considered himself at war. The source of his bittersweet happy days. Of his boring life tinged orange.


End file.
